


call off the search

by LearnedFoot



Series: Call off the search for your soul or put it on hold again [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mrs. Fletcher (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Background Eve Fletcher/Julian Spitzer, Background Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, First Time Topping, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Sexual exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: The first time Peter kissed Julian, all he could think waswow.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Julian Spitzer
Series: Call off the search for your soul or put it on hold again [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791730
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside), When Death Loves Flamingos





	call off the search

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intoxicatelou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/gifts).



> A companion piece to [_put it on hold again_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255257), which should probably be read first. Once again, the title is from ["No. 1 Party Anthem" by Arctic Monkeys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGUjVbsYG6E). 
> 
> This was originally just going to be some accompanying porn for _put it on hold again_ , but I couldn't resist the chance to give some of Peter's POV on the relationship outside the bedroom, too (plus, a coda I hope you enjoy, *fingers crossed*).

The first time Peter kissed Julian, all he could think was _wow_.

This wasn’t the kind of thing he did, like, ever. Not kissing a stranger, and not opening up, either, not like he had—not after Beck. But Julian didn’t feel like a stranger; Peter had watched the video where he defended him so often that every frame was stamped into his memory, a flicker of hope at a time when it had felt like he might lose his city entirely.

Plus, he needed the night off. From patrolling. From the ambient stress that had clung to him ever since Beck splashed his face across Times Square. Most of all, from Mr. Stark and his endless requests for Peter to visit, play in the lab, hit the gym, even watch a movie. From the way he basked in Peter’s presence, following his movements as if he wanted to drink in every second of him. The attention made Peter squirm and scream inside; he craved every second of it, but needed so much more—things he was never going to get. It was driving him crazy.

So, yeah: night off, definitely needed, which was why he went to the party in the first place, stupidly forgetting that parties are rarely anything other than nails on the chalkboard of his senses.

But it was okay, because long story short, here he was, on a roof, drunker than he could remember being, Julian’s lips warm on his, and, yeah: _wow_. It wasn’t the kind of thing he did, like, ever, but maybe he should. For the first time in a year, he felt carefree.

***

Peter decided he really liked Julian during their second night hanging out. Really liked _him_ , not just his shy smile and long hair or the fact that he listened, though he did like all that a lot, too. He was the kind of person who wanted to sit on top of a skyscraper and smoke weed, which was awesome, and he reminded Peter of MJ a bit; a similar kind of quiet confidence, like he knew a lot about life. Which, compared to Peter, he did. It was a little intimidating.

Julian laughed until he coughed, inhaling smoke the wrong way, when Peter shared that thought out loud.

“Don’t make fun of me!” Peter protested, knocking their knees together. “That’s not fair!”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Julian corrected, finally catching his breath. “It’s a compliment. It’s hard to see how _you_ could be intimated by _me_.”

“I’m so weird. You’re like—cool.”

Julian took a long drag on the blunt, considering. He looked so ridiculously handsome and sophisticated, Peter considered whipping out his camera to snap a photo. It would prove his point.

“No way am I cooler than you, Peter,” Julian finally said. “You’re Spider-Man. You shouldn’t be intimidated.”

“It’s okay!” Maybe he thought it was an insult or something. “I like intimidating people. MJ was intimidating.”

Julian smiled, eyes sliding thoughtfully in Peter’s direction at the comparison, as if he understood _like_ didn’t just mean _like_ in that sentence. _Like like_ , Peter’s mind helpfully supplied, as if the were back in middle school.

“Okay,” Julian agreed after a beat. “I’ll take it.”

***

“I think I have a thing for Tony Stark.”

It was the first time Peter said it out loud, to anyone. He hadn’t even said it to himself—it was the kind of thought he’d normally voice into his mirror to try out how it felt, but he couldn’t shake the paranoid fear that Karen would overhear and report back to Mr. Stark. No chance of that sitting on the couch in Julian’s tiny Brooklyn apartment.

Julian just looked at him for a few moments, then shook his head. “Liar.”

“What?” Peter was taken aback. Julian, of all people, should understand—

“You don’t _think_ you have a thing for Tony Stark,” Julian explained before Peter could get upset. “You _know_ you do. He’s who you were talking about when we first met, right?”

Peter relaxed. Yeah, Julian understood. He always did, somehow. “Yeah, that was him.”

Julian nodded, taking in this new information with a solemnity Peter appreciated. Then he leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of wine they were supposed to be splitting from the coffee table. He shoved the whole thing into Peter’s hands.

“Welcome to the club,” he said, raising his own half-full glass in a toast. “It’s a wild ride.”

***

Peter loved exploring Julian’s body, emphasis on _exploring_. It was nice, how Julian let him take his time as he learned the nooks and crannies, indexing every inch of him, from the ticklish spot above his hip to the sensitive skin behind his ears. He tested how he reacted to fingers trailing down his chest, his spine, his thighs—then lips, later tongue. It was like an experiment, but even more fun than science.

Julian explored right back, of course, and didn’t seem to mind that Peter could come at the slightest touch of hand to dick, or that he choked and teared up the first time he tried to take him all the way down. He never rushed him, assured him again and again they didn’t have to do anything Peter wasn’t comfortable with.

Still, Peter knew this was getting ridiculous: it was time for him to stop freaking out for no reason and try topping. Julian had admitted he was curious to experience things from the other side—“you never know what you like ‘til you try, right?”—and Peter was _definitely_ curious. Like, who wouldn’t be?

(Plus, he’d seen the sex tape Mr. Stark made with that one guy in the ‘90s, which definitively proved he liked it every way possible. Not that it mattered, because that was _never_ happening, but—still. Peter wanted to be able to pretend that if it ever did, he would be everything Mr. Stark could possibly want. Because—because. Just because.)

“I’m ready,” he said halfway through an episode of _Battlestar Galactica_ , which he had convinced Julian to watch with him. He couldn’t say why that moment was the one; it snuck up on him, anxiety giving way to annoyance at himself for being so cautious. Suddenly, all he wanted was to just get to it already.

“Wait, like, now?” Of course Julian didn’t even need to ask what he was talking about. After all they time they’d spent working their way up to it over the past weeks—Peter practicing fingering Julian and testing his own strength limits—there was nothing else he could mean.

“Honestly...yeah. Unless you _really_ need to see the end of the episode?”

Julian grinned, tongue curling around the edge of his teeth in a way that was unbearabley sexy. “That’s more a you thing. The TV can definitely wait.”

***

They started with kissing, Julian pulling Peter into his lap as Peter fisted his hair. Their movements were easy, familiar, Julian deepening the kiss, teasing his hands up the back of Peter’s shirt, stroking at his spine in the way that made him shiver. He was always able to push Peter’s buttons effortlessly; he claimed he was making it up as he went, same as Peter, but that was impossible to believe.

“Okay, okay,” Peter murmured as Julian switched to nipping at his nick. “Don’t distract me, don’t—fuck, that feels good.”

Julian’s hand fell between them, palming Peter’s dick through his pants. “Or I could distract you a lot. Call it a warm-up.”

“That— _fuck_ Julian.” Peter couldn’t stop himself from bucking into the warmth of his grip, nodding eagerly as Julian began to unbutton his pants. “That might actually be a good idea.”

Peter’s inability to last hadn’t been much of a problem so far, but it might not mix well with this particular exercise, and coming once did take the edge off a little for later rounds. Conveniently, a few minutes of kissing was enough to get him all the way going; he was leaking enough precome that Julian had no problem slicking him up, hand moving at exactly the right speed, gripping lightly, like he’d learned. Any more, it hurts.

Peter melted into the pleasure with his eyes closed and his lips pressed against the side of Julian’s head, inhaling the soapy scent of his shampoo. He didn’t have to talk; Julian could read the hitch of his breath and the whine in his moans as he got close: he swerved his head, catching Peter in a kiss as he came, allowing him ride out his orgasm with their lips pressed together, chasing intimacy.

“You—have—gotten—really—good—at—that,” Peter gasped between kisses.

In response, Julian guided Peter to lie down, hovering over him, delighted. “Why thank you.” He pulled off his shirt, now stained with come, and threw it to the side. “You don’t make it very hard.”

“Wow. I think I’m insulted.” Peter started pulling off his own clothing, itching to get to the main event. “I mean, I’m not delusional, I know I have a hair trigger, but rubbing it in? Ouch.”

Julian grabbed his shoulders and hauled him into another kiss. “You’re just fishing for a compliment,” he accused, correctly. “You know I think it’s hot.”

“Busted. And speaking of hot—” Peter wrapped his arms around Julian’s waist and flipped them, pinning him underneath him. “Your turn.”

***

Peter liked the prepping process. Julian didn’t hesitate to bare himself, curling his knees up and exposing his most intimate parts. It made Peter feel powerful to be handed that much trust, and it turned him on—a _lot—_ to watch his fingers disappear inside him. He loved learning to take him apart, matching sharp inhales of pleasure to specific movements of his wrist. It was heady, making someone twitch with a curl of his finger.

But lining his rock-hard dick up against Julian’s hole sent a thrill of fear through him, and not in a fun way. This was different, too much power: if he let himself chase everything his body longed for, he could destroy the person beneath him. He wasn’t made for this. It was selfish to even try, he shouldn’t—

“Peter,” Julian said softly. He reached up to cup Peter’s cheek. “Calm down. You can do this.”

Okay, okay. Julian was right. He could do this. He was capable of doing this.

And so he did it. It wasn’t elegant. It was slow, unsteady. He bit his own lip so hard it hurt, gripping into the sheets because he was scared of grabbing Julian too hard. But he did do it. He pressed in until he bottomed out, and by the end he was seeing stars.

“This—this feels—” Warm. Tight. _Close_. None of those words felt adequate. “I mean— _wow_.”

“I know, right?” Julian’s smile was like a reflection of everything Peter felt, so bright he could barely look at it. “I knew you’d like it. Now come on, Spider-Man, show me what you got.”

***

What Peter got was a few thrusts before he came, completely overwhelmed. But hey, Spider-powers bonus: give him ten minutes and he would be good to go again.

And so they waited, Peter a panting wreck draped on top of Julian’s body, Julian a saint, patiently lying there with his arms spread out, not touching Peter because he was always painfully oversensitive for the first few minutes after orgasm.

“Hey, Julian?” Peter murmured against his shoulder. He tasted like salt. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Julian’s body shook with his laugh. “Anytime, Peter Parker.” He tentatively brought his hand to Peter’s hair, fingertips just brushing a few of his curls. “Anytime at all.”

_Postscript_

The first time they went on a double date—Peter with Tony, Julian with Eve—Eve was the one to address the elephant in the room.

“Well, this is weird,” she said, once the waiter had filled their water glasses and handed out their menus.

For a moment, there was silence, as if no one knew what to do.

“Oh, calm down,” she added, suddenly smiling. “I’m talking about the fact that you two”—she pointed accusingly at Peter and Tony—“are freaking _superheroes_. I mean, what is that? That’s crazy.”

Tony laughed, visibly relaxing. “Everyone’s a little crazy, Mrs. Mackie. We just do it more publicly.” He grabbed a menu. “By the way, I hope no one is a vegetarian, because we are getting calamari for the table. Non-negotiable. It’s divine. Best in the city.”

“Hey, you’re paying,” Eve agreed with a shrug. “Get whatever you want.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. One of everything?”

“Okay, come on. I know you’re Tony Stark, but no one actually gets one of everything, do they?”

As the banter continued, Peter caught Julian’s eyes. For a brief moment, they shared a secret smile.

 _Go team_ , Peter mouthed. Julian laughed silently and then looked away, joining the conversation. But that smile stayed at the edge of his lips all night.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved <3
> 
> Also, I went completely insane with this exchange and wrote about 20k in a week. Please, _please_ point out the inevitable typos that made it through. I promise I will be grateful, not annoyed.


End file.
